Binding of Fenrir
by Chocoomba
Summary: "There's danger in them woods. Beware! The Big Bad Wolf is lurking there. Better to be safe than sorry. Shortcuts are not always good. Take the long road 'round the forest while the Wolf is in the wood."
1. Prologue

**(********A/N****:**

Okay. So this is a sorta ******strange** little plot-bunny which have been humping my brain silly for the past month and a half or so that I decided to get down on (digital) paper. It was originally intended as a one-shot but as the plot branched and got more complex and the page numbers began running ahead of me I decided to divide it up into shorter chapters instead - I believe it will read better this way anyways so...

Oh! And this is an ******AU** by the way! What kind? If you haven't figured it out yet I'd rather not spoil it for you, read and find out *wink wink*!

I will _try _and update this as regularly as I can but I will admit that I'm about to graduate from university in about a month and as my workload goes up my time and motivation to work on this will probably go down... I'm writing this in my spare time to unwind a bit away from my studies but I can't prioritize it at the moment.

Also, the qoute at the beginning is not from me but comes from a Disney animation called "The Big Bad Wolf".

**Beware of **some **OOCness **and **Yaoi **in later chapters.

If all of this sound fine and dandy with you then welcome aboard! The first chapter will be up in a jiffy and I hope you'll enjoy this odd little tale of mine...)

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**- Binding of Fenrir -**

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Prologue

* * *

_"__There's danger in them woods. Beware! The Big Bad Wolf is lurking there. Better to be safe than sorry. Shortcuts are not always good. Take the long road 'round the forest while the Wolf is in the wood.__"_

_._

_._

_._

The pitter-patter of naked children's feet scurrying among damp grass and moss resounded between tall oak trees. A boy, the quickened, slightly high-pitched, breathing brought to light.

The Wolf strained its long ears and listened carefully in order to shadow the boy's stride as he leapt on slippery rocks in order to cross the active river bank. Slipping between the long, thick tree-roots that reminded him of a witches' fingers, past the hollow tree that served as the foxes den, the boy's both breath and legs finally started to become too heavy to carry him.

The Wolf sniffed the air once it deemed their difference in distance well-nigh; barely able to constrain the snort at the intense mixture of scents that hit its snout like a percussion. The boy reeked of fear, sweat, salt and... _blood?_

With a thump and a splosh, the boy cried out as his legs gave out underneath his own weight and brought him down into a puddle of mud. The Wolf listened carefully to how the boy whined and sniveled with each heaved breath as it measuredly stalked towards the boy's hunkered back with its head bowed low.

There was a sharp intake of breath and the boy quickly turned around to lie on his back, ignoring the wet dirt that leeched itself into the cloth of his shirt, at the sudden waft of warm air against his neck and he came face-to-nose with a grandiose wolf. The notorious forest guardian, _Fenrir_.

The same Fenrir known for its rancourously blood-stained fur and bulk. Its body four, perhaps five times bigger than what could be considered natural.

The same Fenrir that Matron had stuffed his head filled with words of warning about while she tucked him in at night.

And yet...

With his right hand practically absorbed in the velvety thicket of fur, scratching the base of the Wolf's ear lovingly.

_... He felt a rare sort of peace._


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: **

_'__I will take great care.__'_

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_Once upon a time, in this very village__**,**__ there lived a far-famed huntsman who, with his proficient way to handle a rifle, single-handedly kept the entire village fed during the harshest of winters._

_He was a loner who choose to abode in the cottage closest to the woods where he would spend his days undesturbed, admiring the skins from woodlands creatures which he had hung on his walls._

_However, as time passed by the man grew weary of the stuffed wolves and bears as his sole companions and decided that he should venture into the village more frequently. During his ventures, and while the sun was still blistering, he fell in love with a flowergirl and each morning he would purchase from her a single flower simply to bring a smile to her face._

_A single flower soon turned into several bouquets and before the first flake of snow even hit the ground, the sound of their wedding bells engulfed the streets._

_The young flowergirl moved to live with the huntsman and with her she brought a garden of blue corn-flowers to decorate the cottage's peripheral, claiming that she wanted something to serve as a reminder of her husbands brilliant eyes while he was out on his hunts._

_One day while the newly-wed huntsman went to visit his dear friend and owner of the local tavern in the village, he overheard two men talking which caused his interest to pique.  
_

_'I once met a wolf who was being fooled by a fox; I took the wolf down and then tracked the fox back to its lair and brought it back likewise. Certainly, I am the greatest huntsman of the north.' bragged the man on the right._

_'I once rescued a young damsel from certain death when she one day stumbled upon an entire family of bears. Certainly, I am the greatest huntsman of the entire land.' clucked the man on the left._

_'I once outwitted an owl to lead me to a grand elk - the King of the Forest. Its meat alone fed this village and guaranteed its survival throughout an entire winter. Certainly,__** I**__ am the greatest huntsman of all time.' the famed huntsman added to the braggarts conversation._

'Well, this sounds like a problem. Obviously there can't possibly be three huntsmen who are the greatest at the same time so at least two of you must be liars.' the barkeep, who had also overheard the conversation, noted as she delivered drinks to the trio.

_'Then how about a bet to settle who is the best," the first man mused, "Tomorrow morning we all head into the woods and meet here again by nightfall and the two of us who brings back the most wimpish of quarry shall sing bardic poetry in respect to the winner until sun rises once again. _

_What say you?'_

–

"_Squall! _Just what were you _thinking_ running off on your own into the forest like that?! You should consider yourself lucky you're here right now and not in Fenrir's belly!" With her head held high and her arms crossed before her chest Edea, lovingly referred to as "Matron" by the orphans which she cared for, reprimanded the young boy standing in front of her. His cheeks puffy and tinged red from being chastised for his disobedience.

However, a pair of stinging cheeks was nothing compared to the humiliation of having the other children observe their exchange like it was an attraction at the carnival. Silently judging.

"The Wolf didn't eat me. It could of but it didn't even try to..." The young boy, Squall, muttered. His hands folded behind his back and head bent forward in shame.

"Are you telling me that Fenrir _saw_ you!?" the woman gasped and glanced appalingly in the direction of the forest like she was afraid to find the Wolf itself standing there.

"No, It didn't _see_ me because it never opened its eyes! But it definitly knew I was there." He looked up to meet Matron's eyes for the first time since his return, a glint of assurance in his own. "I, I don't think Fenrir is a Bad Wolf!"

"Or maybe the Wolf prefers actual meat over just skin and bones. Did you ever think of _that?_" It was Seifer, the oldest of the orphans, that decided to join the conversation. "Or maybe your kind just smells unappetizing. Wouldn't suprise anyone." He never knew when to keep his mouth shut.

"Seifer, don't get involved!" Matron snapped at him. "Squall, wait for me in the infirmary. We need to care for those wounds but don't believe for a second that this discussion is over with!"

As Matron walked out of sight and into the small cottage that served as their joint living quarters, the group of children dispersed; Squall obediently making his way to the infirmary which was an annex to the small shed located a short distance away from the main building and closer to the forest. There he parked himself on the sickbed, idly dangling his legs off the side as he waited for Matron to proceed her lecture.

She entered the small room shortly thereafter, carrying a wad of cotton and a translucent bottle of rubbing alcohol. Kneeling down in front of the boy, she frowned disapprovingly at the newly acquired red gash across his face.

"It didn't sound to me like Fenrir caused you any harm so am I to assume this is one of the villager's doing?" She asked as she poured some of the alcohol onto the wad, her tone of voice now much more gentle as she had taken some time to calm herself and think things through more clearly. Nothing but silence followed her wondering and she sighed in slight frustration once she realized that she wasn't going to recieve an answer. For now, she decided to drop the subject.

Squall hissed and scrunched his eyes together tightly in order to try and keep the tears at bay as Matron cautiously dabbed the cotton wad across the wound on his face, trying to be as gentle as possible while she cleansed it from the dirt and grass that threatened to cause an infection.

"_You_ if anyone should stay clear of the forest, Squall. I know this might sound somewhat absurd but... " She soaked one of the towels in the sink at her left-hand side and began carefully scrubbing away the drying blood from the boy's face before she sighed again, as if mentally preparing herself for what she was about to say next. "...If it's true as you said, that the Wolf is good to you, and the villagers realize that you can visit the forest unscathed while they can't... I wouldn't put it past them to come to the conclusion that you and Fenrir are in some sort of collusion with each other."

Once satisfied with the state of the boy's face she held it with both hands, urging him to look her in the eye as she continued, "_Don't_ give them more reasons to hurt you."

Squall nodded somberly. He understood the gravity of Matron's words, after all if there was anyone who could relate to what he was going through it had to be her, the difficult part was to accept them.

The infirmary door creaked and tufts of brown and hints of a petite blue dress peeked around the brink of it. "Squally? I heard you got back. Are you-" Her tiny voice, soft as cotton candy, blended into a sharp gasp when she spotted the condition of the boy's face in the light of a flickering candle. Immediatly she rushed to close the distance between them, almost stumbling over her own dress in the process.

"Ellone..."

"My goodness! What happened?! Is Squally gonna be okay?" The little girl's head rapidly looked between Matron and the boy, worry apparent in her eyes.

"I'm fine, Sis. Don't worry." He smiled at her and comfortingly squeezed her hand in his. Holding the appendage somehow always managed to soothe him.

"What happened?"

Squall felt the bed dip and glanced hesitantly at Matron who had taken a seat next to him on the bed. Suddenly fully aware of how their exchange was being scrutinized by the older woman.

"Just... Some meanies. Down town..."

Ellone covered parts of her mouth with the hand not being held by Squall. "They hurt you?! Why? Is it because you're a Sorcer-"

"Hush! We don't talk about that here. You never know who might be listening." Matron quickly intervened.

Ellone clasped her mouth with both of her hands this time. " 'm so sorry! I just... " The little girl hesitated before looking up again and her eyes locked with Squall's. "The others told me you traversed the woods... Is this true?"

Squall had to look away, refocusing his attention to a rathole in the corner of the shed, before he allowed himself to nod.

"That's dangerous, Squally! What if Fenrir had gotten hold of you!" She blurted angrily before her voice suddenly turned uncharacteristically grievous. "Promise me you won't put yourself in danger like that again. Promise me that you will stay far away from the forest from now on," She said and held out one of her fists where Squall could see it. It was closed with only the pinky poking out expectantly.

"Nothing hap-"

"_Promise me, Squall._"

With a sigh the boy eventually relented and gingerly hooked his own pinky with Ellone's, reluctantly engaging in her promissory ritual.

"I promise."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: **

_'What big ears you have!'_

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_'- Eternal rest for the hefty white wolf,_

_Who a far-famed huntsman, it tried to engulf,_

_With vulpine cunning and deceit,_

_His bullet pierced dark meat,_

_Huzzah for this feast!_

_Eternal rest for the beast!'  
._

_That night, the entire village partook in the festivities and thus the tavern hollered with tributes and merriment thanks to the prize the newly-wed huntsman had toted back home with._

_They held a banquette and binged the finest of meat and, with its silvery fur, the huntsman tailored a beautiful coat for himself and his wife._

_The next day, as the huntsman once again made his way to the woods for a hunt, he crossed paths with a fair young lass donning a little riding hood made of red velvet over her head._

_'Good day, Mr. Huntsman, ' said she._

_'Good day to you as well, young miss.'_

_'Please, Mr. Huntsman, will you chaperon me to my grandmother's house? She is ill and weak and I bear gifts to enliven her.'_

_'Where does your grandmother live?'_

_'A good quarter of a league farther on in the wood; her house stands under the three large oak-trees and the nut-trees are just below.'_

_'If you allow me a sip from that bottle of wine in your basket I will assure your safety to and fro your grandmother's house.' replied the huntsman._

_And so, with the promise to share some of her goods with the huntsman once they arrived, they embarked alongside each other in a journey through the forest._

–

Five years ago, Squall Leonhart made a promise to someone he cherished above all else to stay away from the forest because of the dangers it implied.

Three years ago, Squall Leonhart made another promise, to himself, that he wouldn't cry even when it felt like the world crumbled around him.

Today, Squall Leonhart had breached them both.

The Wolf sniffed the ground and pricked its ears up as it travelled further into the depths of the great forest; searching for the extrinsic presence that had summoned it.

The sound of stiffened, browning, leaves crunching underneath the Wolf's big paws mingled with the chorus of bird song, foliage fluttering in the wind and the faint sound of a child sobbing.

Its sensitive nose steered the Wolf into a modest clearing; towards the hollow trunk of a tree that stood proudly in its midst. The inside of the trunk was occupied by something warm, hominid and breathing, the Wolf perceived as it pushed its snout through the gap in the tree and huffed into the face of the intruder who exhaled a shaky breath in response.

"Wolf... If you're out looking for a snack then please help yourself. I won't mind."

It was a boy who spoke and if the Wolf had allowed its eyes to open it would have descried the crestfallen look that adorned his face following that statement.

For a short moment, only the song of nature and the sound of the boy's shallow breathing betrayed the illusion that time had suddenly frozen as the two figures remained stagnant.

It was the Wolf who made the first move, ungracefully clambering further inside the narrow trunk until it was more or less cornering the boy and then folded its legs underneath itself. Bumping its snout into the boy's chest and shoulder until it found his face, revealing impossibly sharp fangs as it opened its mouth.

Squall felt his heart speed up and swallowed nervously, cursing himself mentally for feeling the slightest of fear when he figured there should be none. After all, he had asked for this. He shut his eyes to steel himself better and told himself to stop.

Stop thinking. _Stop feeling._

The pain of the bite, the ripping of skin and the gobbling of his innards – never happened. Instead, a gruff tongue lapped at his wet cheeks followed by a soft, animalistic whine.

It was all it took for Squall to come apart at the seams.

Slinging both his arms around the Wolf's neck and burrowing his face in thick fur, he wept acutely.

"... Why... What did I do wrong...? Why did she... Why did she have to... _leave_?! … I don't understand... Doesn't she... like me anymore...? Whatever I did... I didn't mean t... to... I'll make it all up to you... just... Please, come back... _Sis_... "

The Wolf sat perfectly still as it listened to the boy's lament, taking note of how his voice cracked every so often with hints of adolescence.

Squall wasn't sure why he was pouring his heart out to the reputedly feral Wolf and even less why he found comfort in it. Maybe it was because he figured that the Wolf would listen to him without actually hearing what he said. Maybe he wanted to believe that he had found someone who would be able to accept him without judgement.

And so, the boy ended up divulging everything that burdened him to the Wolf.

He talked about how much it broke his heart to let go of his dearest Ellone's hand, knowing he might never see her again, as a strange man from a faraway land had come to whisk her away from him.

How his mother figure was growing weaker by the day and how much it terrified him to lose her dependency. He left out the bit about him being a Sorcerer and how he knew being considered Matron's protege was the only thing protecting him from being put through witch trial; learnings of carefully concealing such information being deeply rooted into his mind.

It was getting dark by the time the boy had run out of tears to shed and confessions to tell.

"I wonder if you're lonesome too," Squall queried as he let the Wolf escort him towards the outskirts of the woodland, "I hear your howls at night sometimes. They always sound so... heartbroken... to me."

The Wolf kept walking in a steady pace, leaving no impression that it had comprehended a word the boy had just spoken but he wasn't expecting it to either.

After another good ten minutes of walking, the pair egressed the forest together and found themselves in a vast field shimmering with bright white efflorescence. It was nightfall already and the pair was presented with a beautiful view of the sun beginning its descent past the oceans horizon.

Squall fought the urge to stop dead in his tracks and just enjoy the atmosphere for a moment as he saw the lighthouse next to the orphanage beckoning him to hurry on home. He had already missed dinner and it was against regulation to be outside after the lighthouse had been lit. There was no need to pile on even more punishments than he already knew was waiting for him.

He turned around to wave goodbye to the Wolf and give a few words of thanks for its aid but was surprised to find there was no over-sized beast behind him anymore but a grown man in its stead.

Squall felt his blood run cold at the sight.

"... Who... Who are you?" He asked cautiously. The man was well-built and dressed in clothes of dark colors, mostly green and brown, with belts crosscut over his chest and around his legs. They seemed old-fashioned to the boy but he wasn't experienced enough with clothing design to pin-point why he thought that.

The man's face was properly veiled by a crimson mask, carved out of wood, which resembled the head of a wolf. It was bolstered by three leather belts encircling his own head, gilded spikes of hair poking out between the gaps in a seemingly jumbled fashion, and the mask's snout protruded forward, creating a bit of distance between the mask and the man's real face.

Around his neck was a barely visible, translucent choke chain which tailed back into the forest behind him and Squall couldn't see the end of.

"Are you... Fenrir...?"

The man took a step forward so he was standing directly in front of the boy, the sudden movement causing Squall to gasp and brace himself - for what he wasn't sure.

"I go by many names and that is indeed one of them."

The man, or rather the_ Wolf, _knelt to an approximate eye-level with the boy and extended his arm out deliberately until his hand landed on a thin shoulder. It was meant as a comforting touch so when the boy recoiled and started trembling the Wolf frowned disapprovingly behind his mask. He found it worrisome that the boy who was barely fazed by the beastly appearance of the Wolf seemed to be petrified by his human form. It was usually the other way around.

"Will you be okay without her?"

The question seemed to help the boy recuperate a bit as he stumbled over his own words to quickly come up with a response.

"... Y" ... "Y-yeah... I'll... " He swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly feeling taut as he was reminded of Ellone. "... I'll do my best... I be able to take care of myself."

The Wolf moved his hand to tousle the boy's clipped hair gently and used his thumb to wipe away freshly formed tears from soft cheeks.

"Then you're stronger than I ever was." With that said, the Wolf rose to his feet and started walking back towards the forest, ignoring the feeling of curious eyes boring into his back.

Squall was frozen in place, flabbergasted by how the man's body blended into that of a grandiose wolf before him as he passed through the barrier of the woods. He followed it with his eyes almost desperately until it was swallowed by the darkness.

That night Squall had been sent to his room without supper and, as he lay alone in his bed, he reflected on the day's events. Thinking back, he chagrined over his blatant display of weakness and cursed his eyes that, even now, battled to push through more tears and winning.

Him? Stronger than the _Wolf_?

… Impossible. Although he couldn't deny the gratifying boost in self-esteem he had felt at hearing such words.

_Strong._

He decidedly wanted to become _stronger_.

With a final determined snivel and a deep scowl on his face, Squall Leonhart resolved to make yet another promise to himself, a new rule to live by, that he would never ever show his weakness again. To anyone.


End file.
